18 February 2005

Free Fridays!

Thankfully, this job allows me certain days to just relax and blog... and Fridays are usually good for 'em. I could just waste time and read every single article on the internets about Day 1 of the Cubs in Spring Training; the public is starved for every single pitcher's (and catcher's!) opinion about Sosa's exit. So far, the consensus is that they're a better team without him. Salud.

Last night, I had the pleasure of watching four bands rock the stage at the 169 Bar in Chinatown. I could not WAIT to get there after being informed by a friend that the nickname for this bar was "The Bloody Bucket." (Because that's where people go to fight! YIPPEE!) But nothing, not even "The Bloody [expletive deleted]" could keep me away from seeing the greatest rock band in the world play. They are... "FUCKING GO"! With songs like "Fuck the MTA" and "I Fucking Love You" (a love song dedicated to the bassist's wife), they REALLY whip the llama's ass.

But as I said before, there were three other bands playing...

Band #1: Unfortunately, I can't remember their name. I'm not sure anyone remembered their name. If I had to guess, I wouldn't even bet that they had a name. If they did, it would probably be something Nu-Rock derivative with a splash, just a splash, mind you, of 80's NWOBH influence. Either way, I wish I did remember their name because they just became the answer to a very important trivia question. "Dave, who is the worst band you have ever seen play?" These guys would strike out at a middle school talent competition. I turned to my girlfriend and said, over the din of rubbish, "I honestly do not think they know how to play their instruments." Her response: "Isn't that the point of punk music?" Cute. Their sound was like gutterpunk meets death metal.. which I think is equivelent to the decline of civilization. They were even making fun of themselves by the end of their set; and not like clever Conan O'Brien making fun, more like "We have been made fun of all our lives, go ahead and heap it on like the rest of 'em." The highlight, and I use this term loosely, was watching them perform a song with the main riff from "Blister in the Sun". This may have been something they tried to achieve some sort of irony... But I guarantee they spurred more alcohol sales than any other band that night!

Band #2: UkUk. Not bad at all! I enjoyed their set, and I think I really would have enjoyed it more had it not been for the awful equipment the house supplied. The microphones were cutting out the entire night. (I hardly noticed in the first act). The lead singer was really into the music, and was jumping around the stage, gyrating, whacking a cowbell. It was great, and the band played really well. All of them were excellent musicians. If this were the end of Blind Date, I'd be staring into a camera saying "Yeah, I'd probably see UkUk again."

Band #3: See Band #1. These guys were slightly more polished, and could, at least, play their instruments... I think? Same idea though. Unfortunately, the mic was working well enough to hear this singer. If there were any lyrics, I could not decipher them. I have not learned how to speak "Grunt." But as the lead singer grunted his way to a coronary, he would occasionally take a stand on some chairs and go jumping into the air/crowd (more air than crowd). WHEEE! Hooray for being EXTREME! And then the moshing started. And I don't think I have ever seen anything more pathetic in my life. People beating each other up to the tune of grunting. If aliens were to have landed there searching for intelligence on Earth, they would have made a quick U-Turn... and I would have tried to hitch a ride.

Band #4... aka Fucking Go! The main event. The people's choice. And they gave the people what they wanted. Featuring Ross Inman on bass and his cousin Sam Young on the drums; the rhythm section was superb. The lead singer was energetic and managed to strike the punk rock pose without looking like a poser. Hence the difference between Fucking Go and the other two "thrash punk" bands. Despite the narrow scope that "thrash punk" allows, Fucking Go knows how to write solid and memorable tunes. Within these narrow parameters, the New York quartet manages to create quick and catchy gut-socking anthems of fury that leave the audience wanting more....booze. More booze. And more fury! And even though I wish they'd throw a U2 cover in there, I eagerly await the next show.

10 February 2005

I'm Back!

How haughty can someone get to declare their return to blogging by using the words now made famous by MJ's two-word press release upon his second return to the NBA? This haughty. My apologies to the people out there who enjoyed reading this blog, and would admonish me for my absence.. work has been nuts, but that is really no excuse. This is why at 10:37 pm on a Thursday night, the time has come to throw some hits out there like Larry King sipping on a Diet Tab:

a) Freddie #$&^#ing Mitchell... holy jeeze, if this guy doesn't shut up soon, he will singlehandedly soothe Philadelphia's collective misery as their sadness turns to rage to a lynch mob. For those of you non-sports fans out there, this guy, who has nicknamed himself "FredEx" and "Fourth Down Freddie", is a wide reciever for the Eagles. And as soon as the Eagles made the Super Bowl this guy put some make-up on, shaved a mohawk, dressed like the third weirdo member of Outkast, and started a never ending press conference of soundbytes that still has yet to abate. I need to put some quotes up here from his latest ramblings... these ramblings coming AFTER his team was defeated in the Super Bowl, AFTER he talked non-stop smack to the Pats secondary, and AFTER telling Rodney Harrison (of the aforementioned Pats secondary) that he "had something for him", and yes, AFTER that aforementioned Harrison had caught two more passes from Eagles QB Donovan McNabb than "Fourth Down Freddie"....

Referring to team-mate Terrell Owens' remarkable performance in the Super Bowl:

"T.O., he came and did an excellent job ... but that really took away from my play time and my opportunities," Mitchell said. "I couldn't shut a lot of people up that I wanted to shut up. That really hurt the situation."

In other words, T.O. catching all those passes really hurt my own situation of needing to catch passes. Not "the situation" of trying to win a Super Bowl...

"[The analysts] think they know it all. ... T.O. is just on a pedestal, and everybody else is pretty much peasants."

Good plan, rip the franchise. And just in case you're sure THAT didn't write your ticket out of town...

""He [Donovan McNabb]was dry heaving and he couldn't get the words out in the play, so he gave me hand signals. ... I basically called the play and knew what the coaches were thinking in that situation. I called the play out and went on from there." Mitchell added, with a laugh, that if he were in that situation again, he'd have called a different play, one in which he was the intended receiver."

Make the star QB seem like a choker. Time to stop calling yourself "FredEx" and start calling yourself "FredEx-Eagles-Wide-Receiver." I just hope wherever this guy does end up, they don't have local media that is interested in what this idiot has to say.

b) MXC is one of the most irritating shows on television. For those of you who haven't seen this crap... SpikeTV took some old Japanese physical challenge type game shows; people running and crashing into things, falling into water, and redubbed them with American voices making fun of Japanese people. I'm all for making fun of other cultures, but this just is not funny. Someone jumping from rock to rock and then falling into the water while the announcer is mispronouncing their R's and L's is not funny.

c) What do I have to do to get "Hot Seat with Wally George" reruns in syndication?!

d) Jose Canseco... You've gotta have some of Pete Rose's DNA in you somewhere.

But I gotta say, Jose may be a criminal, a juicer, and a complete opportunist starved for media attention while out to make a quick buck. But I think he's telling the truth.

We know Canseco was on 'roids, he said so.

We know Giambi was on the stuff, he confessed too.

So when Jose talks about these three-way injection parties in the bathroom stalls of Network Associates with two people who are on record as steroid users... (and how unbelievably homosexual do they sound talking about shooting steroids into each other's butts in bathroom stalls?) why should we think that McGwire wasn't a part of it? Skinnyish guy, started to get injured a lot, then all at once...he got much bigger, and much more healthy...then hit 70 home runs.

That is the steroid pattern.

I'll say this though, Big Mac did hit 49 home runs as a skinny rookie.

e) Sammy Sosa to the Orioles. Christmas may have come late for this Jewish kid, but it sure did come. Just how ridiculous did Sosa's agent Adam Katz sound after the trade while going on and on about how thrilled Sosa was to be in Baltimore, about how it was his first, second and third choice! Glad their memory is so short and neither of them remember when Sosa had cork thrown at him by people sitting in the outfield stands in none other than Baltimore's Camden Yards in 2003.

Say, did you hear that when an Oriole employee showed up in a personal vehical to greet Sosa at the airport and take him to his physical, Sosa told him he only takes limousines? The limo took an hour to show up delaying the physical and the press conference.

5 days till pitchers and catchers report!